


she's light and also passage

by caelestes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Family Dynamics, Father-Daughter Relationship, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 06:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18244112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelestes/pseuds/caelestes
Summary: There was a moment, when Rey had softly announced she was pregnant, that Ben was absolutely and unequivocally certain it had to be part of some grand cosmic joke. Felt at his back the karmic amusement of his fallen lineage, his many sins scored against the imminent prospect of a child inhiscare. Him? A father? The two terms couldn’t simply partner.It’s difficult to remember that moment now.





	she's light and also passage

There was a moment, when Rey had softly announced she was pregnant, that Ben was absolutely and unequivocally certain it had to be part of some grand cosmic joke. Felt at his back the karmic amusement of his fallen lineage, his many sins scored against the imminent prospect of a child in _his_ care. Him? A father? The two terms couldn’t simply partner.

It’s difficult to remember that moment now.

Jaina’s leaden in his hold, all of two years and sniffling in her sleep. Her head lays on his shoulder; her ruddy cheek, still warm with a gradually ebbing fever, pressed into his tunic.

“It’s entirely normal,” the doctor had said. “Like most things with little ones, this too shall pass.” It was a remarkably calm reply in response to when Rey, with a hysterical edge to her voice, had insisted that it must be something more serious, surely. Because her daughter, usually boundless with energy befitting an infinitely curious child, was morose and fatigued for going on nearly a week.

It’s been ten days at this point, and Ben can feel Jaina’s Force signature gradually lighten. Becoming brighter, a star. The fever _is_ passing, as the doctor promised—Ben having a vague sense of guilt dig troublesome fingers at his neck. “My wife and I would both appreciate if you’d do what your job dictates and offer us a solution,” he’d said when confronted with a treatment plan that merely included more fluids and rest. Turns out, that’s exactly what his daughter needed.

Another whine. A fleeting grunt. Eyes darting behind closed lids. She’s dreaming.

Ben brings up a hand to brush Jaina’s hair back from her forehead, dabbing away trickling drops of sweat while he’s at it. He wipes the access off on his trousers, calls to the far nook of their home, “Do you have the towels?”

“Coming.” Rey enters into view, fluffed white tufts in her hands. “Just out of the laundry,” she says.

Ben takes them from her, lips curling slightly at the scent. “Lavender.”

“It should ease the congestion, and help her sleep—but it seems you’ve already taken care of that.” Rey nods to Jaina’s sprawled form over his shoulder.

“I just recited the history of the Galactic Peace Accords,” he deflects, dryly. “Sent her right off.”

Rey lets out an amused huff. Allows the moment to sit for a bit before murmuring, “You should learn to take a compliment, you know.” Her tone is not so much admonishing as it is absurdly gentle, even a little sad.

Ben doesn’t have anything to say to that.

 

-

 

“Papa.” Jaina always says the word this way—blurts it like she can’t get it out fast enough, punctuated and needy and with complete, absolute adoration. Her arms flail forward the very  _second_ he enters her room.

She’s nearly as attuned to Rey and his moods as they are to the other, bonded in that intrinsic way that only some Force-sensitive children are to their parents. It reminds Ben of Leia, of what he had with his own mother, more often than not. He wishes it didn’t.

“I’m here, my love.” The endearment comes easily as he scoops her up. Her nightdress bunches in his hands—bolts and bolts of Chandrila lace, the nicest piece of clothing Jaina has. A gift from a neighboring politician; which Rey saw as more charity case than actual show of affection, yet she’d kept the garment anyway.

(“It’s insulting,” Ben had rallied when he’d seen her flush bright pink after opening the box it came in and reading the card attached. “We’ll return it.”

But Rey had shook her head, swallowed what Ben knew to be every ounce of her stringent pride and said, “No, we won’t.”

Images crept into being: the simple shifts she’d worn on Jakku, rags more than anything. Dirty and rough and humiliating.

Rey would never deny her daughter any niceties. Even ones proffered as a supposed slight.)

Jaina settles contentedly in his clasp, smiles at him as if he’s never committed a single sin. She brings the tiniest of fingers to trace his face, pinch his nose playfully. Ben makes a go of pretending to try and bite them in retaliation, causing Jaina to shriek and giggle.

He kisses her forehead and walks them into the kitchen where his wife and breakfast wait.

**Author's Note:**

> just something short i worked on while taking a break from my much longer in-progress fic. and now i’m beside myself with ben-as-a-dad headcanons. i’ve played myself.


End file.
